


While We Wait

by misstriplem



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Arthur Morgan Does Not Have Tuberculosis, F/M, High Honor Arthur Morgan, Papa Arthur Morgan, red dead redemption 2 - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-19
Updated: 2019-10-19
Packaged: 2020-12-24 05:51:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21094451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misstriplem/pseuds/misstriplem
Summary: A one-shot featuring my OC, Claramae (Clara) Howard, Arthur Morgan, and their daughter, Annie. In an alternate timeline from RDR2, Arthur and Clara leave the gang for a ranch in Ambarino, where they live and raise their daughter. Annie, much like her father, has a fondness for horses, and Arthur takes it upon himself to teacher her to properly feed them.





	While We Wait

They weren’t watching her.

Clara leaned against the side of the barn door and sipped her still steaming cup of coffee. Morning slipped slowly toward its noon zenith, but the heat persisted, intent on blistering the landscape with its presence. Even here, nestled in the mountainous embrace of Ambarino, the heat was stifling. It drove Clara mad; she’d never liked the heat.

It was probably a good thing they’d never ended up in Tahiti, then.

Her husband stood at the fence that separated the twin horse corrals. Tommy, one of the ranch hands, worked the horses in the opposite enclosure. One beast—a particularly handsome white dapple—had meandered to the fence, its nose twitching with curiosity.

A small, petite figure, balanced carefully on the top rung of the fence and held fast by her father’s hands, held out a tentative hand. In the little girl’s palm was a ripe, shiny red apple.

Arthur Morgan leaned forward until his head loomed just about his daughter’s shoulder.

“Easy, now, Annie,” he instructed in a soft voice. “Let him come to you.”

The horse took a few careful steps forward. Its long face stretched forward and its nose worked near the apple.

Annie Morgan pressed her lips together in a firm line and held her hand high.

“That’s it,” Arthur encouraged. His voice was alight with excitement, his lips turned up in an expectant smile. Clara’s heart lifted with it, bolstered by the undeniable light in her husband’s eyes.

The horse parted its lips and let its long, snaking tongue grab the apple. It took it happily and sniffed the girl’s still proffered hand for another offering.

Annie gasped and clutched the hand to her chest. She turned her crystalline blue eyes—the ones Clara swore were just like her father’s—to Arthur, their depths wide with wonder.

“I did it, Daddy!”

Arthur chuckled and kissed the top of her head. “You sure did, baby.”

The horse took a step closer until his nose was even with little Annie’s neck. Arthur’s grip instinctively tightened around his daughter. The beast huffed and blew out a hot breath on the girl’s neck, eliciting a trill of high, bubbling laughter.

Clara’s smiled widened. She sipped her coffee and wondered how she could have ever been frightened to be a mother.

Arthur lifted her easily off the fence and held her in his arms. Annie wrapped her little arms around his neck.

He looked up, spotted Clara where she stood, and smiled at her.

That smile—once, it had been a rare, coveted thing. Now, it adorned his face more often than not. It was all thanks to little Annie, who had captured his heart at birth and held a firm grip on it ever since.

There was nothing he wouldn’t do for his little girl. And, what’s more, Annie knew it; even at three (nearly four, as she was quick to remind her parents), she exploited this fact nearly every chance she got. And Arthur, who was helpless to deny his daughter anything, would happily lasso the moon for her, if only she had a care to ask.

But Annie was far and away her father’s daughter. She’d been following him around the ranch ever since she was able to walk, intent to discover all the wonders the world had to offer. Arthur, for his part, remained staunchly at her side, holding her hand and watching with pride each time she made another accomplishment.

Arthur hefted Annie in the crook of his arm and pointed at Clara with the other. “Mama saw you, too.” He turned another smile at her and said, “I’m so proud of you, darlin’.”

He kissed her cheek and she giggled. Annie peered at Clara, who gave her a small wave.

“Mama,” the girl shouted as Arthur brought her closer, “I fed Bear all by myself!”

Arthur had purchased the horse for Annie when she was barely a year old. Clara had protested the purchase, but he’d paid little attention to her ministrations and instead insisted that the ranch, which was still budding at the time, needed as many well-bred horses as it could get.

When he’d started taking the baby to see the horse and bond with it, his ulterior motives were made clear.

Bear had been the only name Annie’s young mind could come up with. After a while, Arthur and Clara could see the merits of the name and it stuck—not that Arthur would have permitted any change, anyway. If it made Annie happy, then that was all that mattered.

Clara reached out a hand and brushed a stray strand of Annie’s hair—a deep, earthen tone sprinkled with bits of crimson to match her mother’s—behind her ear.

“I saw,” she said with a smile. “You did a wonderful job.”

Arthur lowered her to the ground but kept a hand on top of her head. Annie latched onto her mother’s leg and craned her head up nearly as far as it could go.

She said, “Daddy said I can ride Bear when I’m five.” Annie held up a hand, her fingers splayed wide to indicate the number of years.

Clara’s eyes flicked to Arthur, who kept he gaze staunchly elsewhere. She turned her attention back to their daughter and nodded solemnly. “Then you’ll be riding him soon enough, right?”

Annie nodded emphatically. “Next week?”

“No, honey,” Clara said with a soft chuckle. She brushed her thumb against the girl’s cheek. “It’s a bit longer than that.”

Annie frowned. She pressed her cheek to Clara’s thigh, paused for a moment, and then looked up at her once more. “Then can I help Tommy with the horses?”

Clara raised an eyebrow. “Did you do the rest of your chores?”

The girl’s expression fell into one of consternation. “But Daddy said I don’t have to do chores if I don’t want to!”

Arthur chose that moment to be thoroughly interested in the façade of the barn.

“Well,” Clara said slowly and with a quick look at the adjacent corral, “why don’t you go ask Tommy if he needs any help?”

Annie grinned and darted away. She called Tommy’s name near the fence and the ranch hand, who long since grown accustomed to the whims of the Morgans’ daughter, quickly met her at the gate and happily led her into the corral.

Arthur adjusted his hat and nodded toward the barn. “Guess I better get back to work,” he muttered quickly as he moved away.

Clara took a sip of her coffee. “Oh, darling,” she cooed. “Come back here, please.”

He paused, sighed, and turned back to her. He at least had the grace to have a repentant look on his face.

She stalked toward him, her brow furrowed. “Arthur, she’s too young to work with the horses.”

His eyes went directly to his daughter. Tommy had her by the hand while he showed her how to properly lead the horses. Arthur threw out a hand in their direction.

“But she loves them,” he reasoned.

Clara placed a hand on his arm. “She’s too young.”

Arthur sighed, looked toward Annie, and opened his mouth to protest.

Clara pressed a finger over his lips. “_Too. Young._”

He frowned but wound his arm around her shoulders. “Fine,” he acquiesced. “But she’s riding when she’s five.”

Clara looped an arm around his waist. She laid her head on his shoulder and cradled her coffee with her free hand. “Whatever you say, dear.”

Arthur reached around and grabbed the cup out of her hand. “In the meantime,” he said as he took a long sip of coffee, “I’ll take some coffee while we wait.”


End file.
